


Captains' Club

by jazzonia



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Banter, Captains with benefits, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Physical Disability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2018-02-03 05:35:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1733003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jazzonia/pseuds/jazzonia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one fucks like starship captains fuck. Luckily, Jim Kirk knows another member of the club.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Captains' Club

No one fucked like starship captains fucked. 

Of this, Jim Kirk was sure. He’d had partners of all ages, genders, and species—on duty and on leave, on Alpha and Beta shift, in Federation space and enemy territory and the top bunks of Academy dorm rooms. He’d had ensigns and lieutenants, new recruits and three-tour veterans, cocksure pilots and methodical science officers and translators with talented tongues.

But no one, _no one_ fucked like a captain.

They were drawn to each other. It was a small club, to begin with, and those who were skilled and lucky enough to survive their first couple tours usually ended up sticking around. Getting to know one another was inevitable, and getting to _know_ one another often followed.

It was a small club, too. By virtue of their rank, serving alongside one another was a rarity. Yet every captain knew how it felt to wear the stripes, to sit in the chair, to spend Gamma shift lying in bed exhausted but sleepless. Captains bonded onboard with their crew and officers, of course, but there remained things that only captains could talk about. Surviving an attack or a mission gone sideways will make strangers into family faster than you can say “Klingon," but still, rank is rank, and junior officers tended to watch their words around their SO. 

Captains, though, got it. Captains were always inside the circle of need-to-know. Captains had been there, done that, and recorded it in the log.

And sometimes, after meetings with the Admiralty or on overlapping shore leaves or after-hours at diplomatic summits, they fucked.

Jim assumed, anyway, given the rate at which he and Pike fell into bed, and onto tables, and against walls. 

“ _Chris_ , fuck, do that again,” Jim groaned, canting his hips up to get more of Pike’s glorious fucking tongue. Christopher Pike—kinky fucking bastard—got off better on giving Jim a rim job than any sort of action on, in, or around his own cock. Jim was _seriously_ not complaining, and knowing his ass was that delectable definitely flattered his ego, but he wished he could do more of the damn work. 

“Hard for me to do much when you’re squirming like a Centaurian fucking slug,” Pike grunted. 

Jim wanted to say something to the effect of ‘ _Isn’t it too soon to joke about the bug that nearly killed you?’,_ but Pike did that _thing_ again, that gorgeous jabbing twisting move that he must’ve learned off-planet, and Jim couldn’t manage much more than a moan.

Pike withdrew his tongue and replaced it with a finger, stroking into Jim slowly. “Make any more noise, Jim, and I’m gonna have to punish you.” 

Jim looked down, catching that glint of mischief in Pike’s eyes to which Jim’s cock was near fucking conditioned to respond. Jim came, holding Pike’s gaze as he spurted across his own quivering stomach. 

Pike grinned. “Thanks for that. Up you get now.”

“I just—” Jim protested, waving his hand to signal his general state of bonelessness. But it only took a glance from Pike to get him moving, grumbling about old men and hip pain as he slid his aching legs off of Pike’s shoulders and stood.

Pike, splayed out on his belly across his obscenely wide bed, rolled over onto his back. Jim stooped down to let Pike sling an arm over his shoulders, and together slid Pike back to sit upright against the headboard. 

The very sturdy, very durable headboard that Jim was 110% sure Pike bought with the intention of cuffing Jim to it.

“What just happened, Jim?” Pike asked, reaching out to trail a finger through the come on Jim’s stomach.

“I was chatty.”

“You were. What else?”

“I came.”

Pike just quirked his mouth. 

“I came without permission?”

“Exactly. And now you’re playing dumb because you know you make a pretty image, standing naked and debauched at my bedside.”

Jim ran his hands across his chest, finally sporting a little more hair than in his Academy days, then slid them down his sides. “Do I?” he asked, just to see Pike’s jaw clench.

“How about you come over here and put that mouth to use?”

“Sir yessir,” Jim said, grinning as Pike rolled his eyes. Pike’s kinks were wide-ranging, but talking rank in bed was surprisingly not one of them. Said it made him feel like he was a cadet again, and not in the sexy young kind of way.

Jim climbed onto the bed between Pike’s splayed legs. He was sated, no question about that, but it was fucking _hot_ to be kneeling bare-ass naked over an Admiral in full uniform. He’d had a head start, true, lounging in Pike’s quarters in his sweatpants and tee shirt while Pike had a budget meeting. Sat at the breakfast table, knees akimbo, wearing his best come-hither look as Pike rolled in through the door.

Now, though, Jim was going to right this injustice of garment distribution. He nosed at Pike’s neck, scratching up against the grain of his beard and then soothing back down with his tongue. Nudged open his jacket collar, kissed the impossibly soft skin at the hollow of his throat. Detoured up to bite Pike’s bottom lip, suck on his earlobes, graze his teeth over his throat. Pike didn’t make any noise, but Jim could feel the ropy muscles of his neck tensing. 

Jim knew he’d encounter no resistance, then, as he unbuttoned the jacket and held it up for Pike to slide out of. Went for the undershirt, too, while Pike was sitting up, and dropped his head down to rest his cheek against Pike’s chest. It had been years since the _Narada_ , but Jim still found himself listening for Pike’s heartbeat. 

Only a moment’s pause, though—Jim reached up to run a fingernail over Pike’s nipple, raising gooseflesh across his chest. Lifted his head to mouth at the other, to lick over his collarbone, to bite the tender skin linking shoulder to chest. Jim loved seeing Pike covered in faint red echoes of him when they were through.

“Do you want to suck my cock, Jim?” Pike asked, voice rough. Jim nodded into Pike’s belly. 

“Too bad you were so insolent, then. I was looking forward to that, too.”

Jim held back his huff of frustration. “May I undress you, sir?”

“Seems like you’re halfway there already.”

“Not the good half.”

“What, my desk-duty physique doesn’t do it for you?” Pike asked, tone a little too light to be natural. He was a little thicker around the middle than he’d been back in Jim’s Academy days, white was starting to creep in along his temples. 

“On the contrary, Captain,” Jim murmured, surging back up to give Pike a slow, thorough kiss. His biceps strained as he held himself up, unsure whether to thrust his erection against Pike’s hip or to press backward into the hands kneading his ass. 

Pike indulged Jim for a minute more—he pretended not to like kissing when they were in bed, but he’d brush his lips against Jim’s in the kitchen and bathroom and empty elevators—then pushed him back roughly.

“Fuck yourself on me,” Pike said, and Jim felt a shudder go through him.

“Yes, sir.” Jim made quick work of Pike’s uniform pants, barely able to stop himself from taking Pike’s cock into his mouth as it sprang free from his briefs. 

“Next time, if you behave yourself,” Pike murmured. “Now let me fuck you.”

Eager to oblige, Jim kneeled on either side of Pike’s hips. He guided himself with one hand onto Pike’s thick hard length, shuddering with pleasure and fullness and anticipation. Sweat built on his forehead as Pike dug his fingernails into Jim’s hipbones. 

Jim braced his arms against the headboard. He rocked forward, groaning, head back and arms locked and thighs quivering. Pike picked up his rhythm effortlessly—and Jim thought _he’d_ had sex mojo before all this started—making Jim feel with every thrust like he was one breath short of cracking open. 

“Fucking—love this,” Pike grunted, making Jim shiver anew. He loved Pike’s cock and his arms and his grin and his eyes, but it was _this_ that made Jim wild. The way Pike lost his composure, lost himself in Jim. The words tumbled out of him unbidden, unasked for, and all the more precious to Jim for it. 

“Don’t know how you—mmph—manage to command a starship with an ass like this. It should have warning signs. It should have its own _clearance_ level.”

Jim rolled his hips in response, twisting and clenching until Pike let out a groan. 

“If the Federation didn’t need you…”

“Would you requisition me, Cap? Keep me locked away in your quarters?”

“Damn right I would.” Pike said, his stroke erratic enough that Jim knew he was close. There was probably more to that sentence, and at least three paperwork jokes that Jim could think of even in his compromised state, but Pike thrust upward and Jim dropped his head and _moaned_ into his mouth, and suddenly Pike was coming into Jim’s slick channel. Jim rocked through it, nose pressed alongside Pike’s, and lasted only a few short rough strokes of Pike’s calloused hand before Jim shuddered through his own orgasm. 

Pike stroked Jim’s cheeks with the backs of his fingers as they kissed, a tender habit that Jim would never ever point out for fear of causing it to stop. His arms ached and his ass burned and he’d definitely be helping Pike change his sheets before long, but he didn’t feel any of it. All that mattered was this moment, this touch, the memory of which had helped help Jim drop off to sleep in countless ghost-lit starship midnights. 

He eased off of Pike, then stretched out beside him. Pike looked over at him, eyes fond, and Jim smiled back.

“Wish we could have been doing this all morning. I was going to knock Marcus out if he raised another line-item objection.” 

Jim rolled his eyes. He’d had to get Marcus’s approval on his dry-dock repair plan last year, and came storming into Pike’s quarters afterward hollering about footnotes until Pike gave him something better to shout about. 

“I know what you mean,” he said.

Pike glanced down, smiling.

“Yeah, Captain, you do.” 


End file.
